When Percy Fell
by BornAsTheSeventhMonthDies
Summary: One-shot of Nico's POV when Percy and Annabeth fell into Tartarus.


They fell. Father and farther. Deeper into Tartarus. Deeper into Hell. The darkness of the Pit swallowed them up soon. I watched as they fell. I don't have the capacity for tears, anymore.

The rest of them think I'm dark. Heartless. A monster. I can see it in their eyes. They know I've gone through a lot, but they don't appreciate it as much as if it had been, say, Percy. Percy would be a hero. I'm just the emo, goth, son of Hades that people only want around to be their guide.

And they don't even know I'm gay. Yet. I know sometime someone, probably Piper, would find out, and then I really will leave. I'll probably just spend the rest of my life in New Zealand or the Underworld.

They're gone now. Percy and Annabeth. They're still falling, though. I know they'll fall for a few hours, fall until they come out above the Phlegethon.

I didn't warn them about the Phlegethon. Or the air. Or the monsters. Or the ground. Or anything.

They don't even know which direction to go.

They don't know about Nyx. Or Akhlys. They don't know about anything.

I should have told them. But I knew, if I had told them I wouldn't be anything more. If I had told them they'd look at me with that barely-concealed disgust. At the son of Hades. Like they always do. Even Leo, the one on the team who's the most alone, doesn't care.

I'm nothing to them. To Percy. I know that now.

But the way he looked at me – the way he asked me to take the rest of the seven to the House – I know now I can't refuse him.

Anything.

When we went through the Labyrinth. When we fought in the first War.

When I came on this quest.

The rest of them didn't want me. Hades, _Percy_ didn't want me.

Even at Camp Jupiter, when he saw me, not knowing who I was, even – I saw the fear in his eyes. He thinks I'm a monster. A freak. A creature of darkness.

I am.

Words have hurt me, before. At Westover. At Camp Jupiter. Even in the short time I was at Camp Half-Blood, there were children of Ares, Aphrodite, even some of my cabin mates, who insulted me. Made me feel small. Unimportant.

And I know they won't, now, to my face – but I hear what they think about me. What they say about me behind my back.

And it hurts.

I've saved people before. Demigods. A mortal, once. But these things are never remembered. Always Percy is the hero. Jason is the hero.

Never the son of Hades.

Devil-spawn.

Now the seven look at me, wondering what to do. Will I lead them, I see them wondering. Will I agree.

Of course I will, I want to say. Percy asked me.

But that's too close to the full truth.

I will. I will tell them I will.

I will never say anything about Tartarus to them. I know they wouldn't understand it, unless they experience it. No one can. Not even my father, though he knows better than most.

Only the monsters. Only the monsters understand me.

If I tried to explain it to the seven, they wouldn't understand. They wouldn't even want to understand. I know that, and I won't try. Won't try to explain pure, eternal, suffering.

Percy and Annabeth will still be falling when we get into the Argo II. They will still be falling when the mortal police will arrive to investigate.

The mortals will leave. The area will be closed off. The Mist will have to work overtime to cover up the pit and make sure no one steps into it.

And they'll still be falling.

They may not live. But I won't cry for them. The others will see this as hard-heartedness; in truth my heart is too soft for them. I know that if I let myself go, I won't ever be able to control myself. I know now that the only way for me is the shadows. Only the darkness, the cold, and pain. And death.

Since I can't show my pain for Percy – terrible pain. Horrible pain. Akhlys was right about me – I will have to do something now.

Back to the ship. "We will continue," I say. We will continue. So will they, down in Tartarus.

And we will fly to the Doors of Death. And they will walk to the Doors of Death.

And if we miss them by so much as an hour, the world will end. Not Gaea; the world.

And the prophecy will never be completed.

We must carry on. I have to hide my feelings, as I've always done, and carry on. This will be what I always do. Alone. Forever.

The children of Hades are always alone.


End file.
